Page 67 of Yearning For Her

Kian hissed. His cock twitched, straining so hard against his pants that he was certain it would explode. He clenched his jaw against the discomfort, against the thrill.

“Not fair,” he rasped, glancing down at her. “You’re not—”

The words died on his tongue as he beheld her face. Willow’s eyes were closed, her dark lashes creating delicate shadows on her flushed cheeks. Her full, kiss swollen lips were parted, allowing her slow, deep breaths to flow freely. Serenity had smoothed her features. In that moment, Willow had no cares, no struggles, no pain.

She was at peace.

His smile eased.

Kian wanted more of her body. He longed to run his tongue over every inch of her skin, to learn every contour with the tips of his fingers, to feel her shudder and convulse around him. He longed to discover every single way to pleasure his mortal, and then he would strive to create new ways.

Bending his neck, he placed a tender kiss atop her head and inhaled, drawing in her sweet, flowery scent, which was tinged with that of her arousal.

He wanted more of this too. This shared quiet, this stillness. More of the simple yet powerful satisfaction of holding her in his arms and just…existing together.

She fed me.

Something warm and gentle unfurled in Kian’s chest, and the lust haze gradually receded from his view.

Willow enjoyed his touch, had reveled in the pleasure he’d given her, had craved more. Even now he sensed her want. Yet her desires hadn’t been her primary motivation. She’d acted not because she wanted, but because he needed.

She hadn’t shed her reservations, hadn’t overcome her hesitancy. Her inner conflict remained. Her heart was immense, and she felt very, very deeply—and she was aware of it. Aware enough to fear the power of what Kian made her feel.

Tonight, she’d briefly set those reservations aside. She’d set them aside for Kian.

She knew he hadn’t been able to feed from anyone but her. She knew she was his only source of sustenance. And despite her misgivings, despite her concerns, she’d put his needs before her own tonight. That was no small thing.

Hell, it was bigger and more important than Kian could rightly comprehend.

He’d only revealed himself to one mortal in all his life—Willow. None of the countless others had known his nature, had understood ho w he fed, had realized that he lived off their gratification. Had they known what he was, would any of them have freely offered what he required to survive? Would any of them have ever considered Kian and his needs?

Would any have fed him voluntarily?

He couldn’t answer those questions, not with any certainty. But he guessed that most of those people would’ve fled upon learning he was incubus. In their ignorance, so many humans had relished his company. They’d lost themselves to passion and pleasure, they’d acted with wild abandon, had said and done things they would never have considered saying or doing on their own.

But even under the belief that Kian was a normal, attractive human, had any of them ever taken his wants and needs into account? He’d given, and they’d taken, unaware that he was the one who’d gained in the end.

Kian combed his fingers through her soft hair. Willow, this precious little mortal, his Violet, had thought of his wellbeing. She’d benefitted from it, of course. But that she’d brought it up at all, that she’d considered his needs…

And what if she just used that to justify her selfishness, Kian? What if she said she wanted to feed you just so she wouldn’t feel the guilt of having you pleasure her without reciprocation?

He frowned, brow furrowing.

Living for so long amongst mortals had certainly strengthened the cynicism he’d first learned in the Evergarden, which had proven a necessary survival skill in the mortal realm. Yet that cynicism was wrong here. It was inappropriate, perverse, sickening.

He hated that he’d doubted her intentions for even an instant. Though he couldn’t pretend to know Willow’s inner workings, he felt her emotions as clearly and fiercely as he felt his own, and he knew she wasn’t that kind of person.

His Willow wasn’t manipulative. She didn’t twist people to her own ends, didn’t take advantage of the vulnerable, didn’t see opportunity in the misfortune of others. She wasn’t the sort who’d use him for pleasure.

She’s nothing like me.

A cold, rough tendril slithered around his heart and squeezed. He quickly cast those thoughts aside; dwelling on them would do him no good.

It was best not to worry. Best to take things as they were, to avoid looking too deeply. Whatever her motivations, Willow had fed him, and though that feeding hadn’t been nearly as potent as when they’d fucked in the hotel room, it had filled Kian more than anything since that night. That was all that mattered.

It was also the biggest shadow looming over him.

He was satiated, but he craved more. Full, but painfully aroused. Relaxed, but taut with desire. He was aware of Willow’s body, of every tiny point of contact between them, aware of her soft breath on his shirt, of the subtle rise and fall of her chest, of the gentle, barely perceptible beating of her heart.

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